


Heathen's Touch

by lol_haha_joke



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-21 17:11:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17047232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lol_haha_joke/pseuds/lol_haha_joke
Summary: Heahmund wasn’t the only Christian taken prisoner; his daughter was the second alongside him, another great warrior that Hvitserk took an interest in. One-Shot.





	Heathen's Touch

Maria knew very well that the women back home didn’t fight. It wasn’t god’s way, it was spoken so highly that women like her were dishonored and abandoned by god. Her father, Heahmund, was the bishop that people all admired and he was the only one that accepted his own daughter wanted to fight like a warrior.

Heahmund fell on love with a woman impersonating a man. He had discovered her secret when she was bathing in a river. He promised to keep her secret because she fought just as well as he did. No one ever found out. They married and had their beautiful daughter, Maria, which unfortunately cost the life of her mother’s.

She loved her father more than anything; he was her inspiration to become what she was now. He sacrificed so much to raise her and achieved more over the years. Even though so many people disapproved of a woman fighting among men, her father was always at her side supporting and training her to become what no one could believe in. A miracle, he would call it.

On that day they had planned in taking back York that the Heathen’s had invaded but it was sighted by a scout that they had left. It was too good to be true but once they had arrived the town was cleared out with what looked like bodies had been burned and everyone thought it was over. Her father looked concerned because of the rats; so many rats were running around their feet like something had frightened them. She tried not to worry too much like him and celebrate with everyone else.

She told herself from the start that something wasn’t right, and she should’ve listened.

It was a trap. The heathen’s climbed out from the tunnels below created by the romans and attacked them by surprise. She fought against them with force and brutality, slashing and blocking at their attacks against her before she overpowered them. It had been a while since she had a good fight and let out a yell as she ran towards another.

He was quick, and well trained against her attacks. She watched him stumble back after she threw her fist at his face and took a good look at her with everyone else fighting around them.

Hvitserk was a little surprised. She was the first Christian woman he had seen in battle and wanted to know her story. A wide grin plastered over his face and charged at her with a predatory growl.

It felt like hours as they fought one another and she felt herself growing weaker while he seemed to be fine like the fight had been nothing for him. She hated losing and feeling her tiredness only made her angrier. He continued to grin at her as she knelt in the mud trying to catch her breathe. With as much strength she could pull she launched at him with a solid swing from her sword. He was caught off guard by her sudden strength but knocked her back once more on the mud and kicked her sword aside, which prevented her from defending herself.

The heathen’s had won the battle that day.

Since the two started fighting she knew he wasn’t going to kill her, but that didn’t stop her from fighting against his vice grip as he dragged her to where the heathen’s were gathered. She saw her father was captured just like her. Hvitserk dragged her to the front and presented her to their leader, Ivar. She only spat at him which made everyone laugh, including Ivar.

Her father was given the worst treatment since he was a prisoner and was left chained up outside in the rain and mud with nothing to eat or drink. Ivar wanted him at his weakest. She expected the same treatment, however that never happened.

She didn’t understand their language but knew Hvitserk had argued with Ivar about something, and she suspected it was about her. She was tied up on the floor but she was where the heathen’s were feasting. Ivar crawled towards her with Hvitserk behind him, both with playful smiles lingering.

“Now, what is your name?” Ivar spoke the language well she thought.

“Maria.” She answered lowly.

“Pretty name.” He licked his lips and she recoiled back. “You are the first Christian women we have seen fighting. You fight well, according to my brother. Tell me, what’s the bishop to you? He seems rather concerned about you.”

“He’s my father, Heathen.” She spat what he was but he only found it amusing.

“I think you’ll fit right in with us, Christian.” He then crawled away back where he came from.

Hvitserk knelt down at her side and observed her like some sort of trophy, which she was. He brushed the back of his finger along her cheek and she flinched away from his touch. She glared at him while he gave a strangle smile.

“Maria.” That was the first thing he said to her.

She could only narrow her eyes at him before he stood up and left her alone. It wouldn’t be the last time she saw him. So, in her own time, she prayed.

Being in the strange new land was a different experience, and oddly Maria was intrigued. The women in their lands held so much more power and found it fascinating. She tried not to let it distract her, because there were far more important things, like being a prisoner.

Ivar had brought them back to a king’s home. Harald Fairhair they called him. No one else spoke the Saxon’s language besides Ivar and Hvitserk.

She was left under Hvitserk’s wing which at first she found to be a horrible punishment. She despised him for as long as she could and ignored all his bothering questions, however in the end she caved, for reasons she wasn’t even sure herself.

He wanted to know everything about her and not just for information to keep against her but he was genially interested. She found it a little amusing since he acted like a little boy again and felt a small smile appear on her. Then she asked him things, about himself and their culture, and eventually she asked about their gods which did surprise her wanting to know, but she felt it would be interesting.

It didn’t change her belief. But she did learn a lot from him.

Ivar had allowed her to speak with her father a few times during their capture and he thanked the lord that she was unharmed. He told her about Ivar’s offer and she said to agree to it, because that meant it was a better chance for them going home. He said he’d need to think about it, but told her to be strong and that he loved her.

When the time came, her father proved himself by killing another heathen which Ivar highly approved. They were to go to war against other heathen’s, and when that was over they could maybe find a way back home.

When the day came though, Ivar wouldn’t allow her to come.

“Why not? I can fight, probably better than most of your men.” She argued.

“Oh, Hvitserk has already made that clear to me, but I do not trust you. I can’t have you running off now during battle, can I? You’ll remain behind and that’s the end of it.”

She hated it. But there was nothing she could do.

“I’m sorry, Maria.” Her father came up from behind and brought her in for a hug, the only comfort she’s had in a long time. “I will return.”

“I’ll pray for your safe return. May god be with you, father.”

“And you, my fierce warrior.” She managed a smirk at his comment.

Days went by.

When she heard the horns she knew the ships had returned. She had squeezed passed people to meet her father on the docks only to be met with a dreadful scene. People were screaming in pain, limps missing and bloodied all over. Families waited for their loved ones but many didn’t return from the battle they lost. Looking around her she franticly looked for her farther but couldn’t see him, then tried looking for a familiar face and ask what happened. When this failed she went to the only place she could think of where Hvitserk would be, if he survived.

She entered the great hall and felt a strange relief when she saw Hvitserk without a scratch on him. He saw her enter and stood up like he expected a welcome back embrace.

“Where’s my father?”

Ivar laid down on a bench staring up at the ceiling like he was lost in thought. He didn’t answer her at first, like he was pondering on how to answer her question.

“He is dead.”

The shock made her numb. “You’re lying.”

“Why would I lie? He died in battle, it’s that simple.” He didn’t care.

It was hard to believe that someone so important to her wasn’t coming back. She felt like she lost her place and purpose in life, it was just something she thought not possible. Her father was one of the best warriors, and suddenly he was gone.

She only continued to stare at him in fear and anger, conflicted between hating him and crying out of grief. When she didn’t answer he looked over at her with a smirk.

“We live and we die, it happens. In the next battle you’ll fight for me in honour of your father.”

“What makes you think I’ll fight for you?” She was angry, both the brothers knew that.

“Anger is a completely natural emotion. Death may seem cruel and unfair, but you’ll come around eventually. Besides, you don’t have a choice. You’re still my prisoner and you’ll do as I say.”

“Fuck you.” The insult surprised them until Ivar let out a humours chuckle. Ivar then sat up straight from the bench.

“Such bold word’s from a Christian. Maria, your father is dead and you won’t be returning to you lands anytime soon. What do you have left to lose?”

With the dagger she had hidden she lunged forward letting out a growl and prepared to stab him. Hvitserk was too quick for her and managed to hold her back away from his brother as she struggled in his tight grip. She could only kick her legs furiously and struggle more until he squeezed her hand so tight that she was forced to let go of the dagger. The tears finally came and felt herself sag against Hvitserk’s chest as her emotions finally caved. Behind her she heard the soft hushing coming from him and it sent another strange comforting feel through her.

“That wasn’t a smart move.” Ivar’s words were toxic. “Perhaps I should invite the remaining of my warriors in here and let everyone of them have a good rut around with you. Would you like that? Hmm?” She knew his threat was real and only shook her head silently. “No? I suggest you start behaving now that your daddy isn’t here. Hvitserk, keep her under control. You’re the reasons she’s still alive so she’s your responsibility. Now get her out of my sight.”

Hvitserk had taken her back to his room where he left her alone until the night fall upon them. She remained on the bed the entire time, curled up in a ball and cried hard until there was nothing left. Prayer after prayer she asked god for the safe return of her father but it turned out god didn’t want him returning.

She felt like she was being punished for what she was, that perhaps being a warrior wasn’t the way to go, and to be a lady like everyone had always wanted. There was nothing else in life that mattered anymore to her. She felt empty, lonely, the grief only hurt more to longer she was alone in the room.

Hvitserk entered with a plate of food and ale for her and set it beside the bed for her. She only glanced at him as he strolled over to the small basin full of water before she dug into the food and downed the ale.

She glanced up once more only to freeze her chewing when he removed his tunic and shirt and she got a good view of his toned back. Maria cursed herself for thinking such sins, it was wrong.

For a moment she didn’t realise that she had been staring until he turned to face her with his braids out. She quickly looked back down at her plate of food and finished the remaining left overs, but she knew he was smirking.

“Like what you see?” She ignored him. “Not talking now?” He took the plate and cup from her and set it aside before he sat down on the furs covering the bed. “It was a stupid move to attack Ivar like that. He could’ve killed you right there. Ivar isn’t one to be taunted, you’re just lucky I stopped you.” It was like he was sculling her like a child and felt her face heat up in embarrassment.

“What did Ivar mean? When he said you’re the reason I’m still alive, what did he mean?” She had to know.

“It means how it sounds. I asked Ivar to not have you killed back in York, and he said only if I kept you out of trouble.” He explained but it made no sense to her still.

“Why? I thought I was alive because of my father.” To mention of him still hurt her broken hurt.

“No, Ivar didn’t care about that.” He scooted closer, too close for her liking but remained in the same spot. “When we fought I admired your strength, and your beauty, all of that was memorising.” She furrowed her brows at him.

“I don’t understand why you’re saying this.”

He didn’t answer her. Instead he touched her face with his hand. The first time he did that she flinched, and other times he tried she would either bat his hand and move out from his reach. This time she didn’t flinch or move and let his coarse hand touch her smooth cheek. What she then realised was he was leaning closer to her and she tried keeping the distance. All she only managed to do was lie down against the furs and have him straddle over her trembling body.

“What are you doing?” She started to panic a little as his face grew closer to her. The sudden realisation of what he wanted hit her.

“What I’ve wanted to do since the moment I saw you.”

He kissed her forcefully, moaning at the contact, and had her pinned against the bed as she struggled against him.

“H-hvitserk stop!” She tried to push him off and when that failed she tried pleading him out of fear or thinking clearly. “Please I’ve never….” The shame lingered too long and he noticed, but he wasn’t surprised, her being a Christian with their beliefs.

“I know.” He showed no motives to stop and continued to kiss and nip her neck while listening to her frustrated sounds.

She hated how her body was reacting to his kisses. ‘Lord, forgive me.’

She hated the moan she made which made him smirk against her skin.

She hated how weak she felt against his hold and felt like a mouse trapped under the claws of a cat.

His hand travelled down and started to carefully lift the shift of her dress up over her knee and thigh. Maria jerked under the foreign touch and a weak whimper left her over how helpless she felt.

“Why are you doing this?” It was her final plea.

“Because it’s meant to happen, don’t be afraid.”

He didn’t stop his motives but he did kiss her lips again, more tenderly, and even managed to invade his tongue in her own mouth, tasting each other. It was strangely pleasant to her, the taste of him wasn’t what she expected and found herself kissing back.

‘Lord, forgive me.’ She gave one final silent prayer before falling under his spell.

Hvitserk let go of her wrists and smirked when she wrapped them over his back with hesitance, the feeling of her accepting his touch almost drove him over the edge. He broke the deep kiss and looked down at her out of breath before he gave a quick peak and scooted his way down. She looked down hesitantly and watched his head disappear under her skirts.

Maria had never felt something as sensational as she threw her head back against the furs as she felt his warm tongue rolling over her folds. It should’ve been wrong, but couldn’t bring herself to think like that anymore, being way too distracted by Hvitserk kissing her womanhood.

The pleasure was slowly building and couldn’t figure out how it was so sinful. The growing pleasure rose as she started to move her hips against his moving tongue against her whiling a small pleasure gasps escaped her. His tongue dipped into her tight entrance and she reached down to grasp at his loose hair followed by a surprised moan. He did it again, and again, lapping at her juices before he pulled away fully. She winced at the loss.

He stood up and helped her stand with him. Her legs felt weak under her weight and looked at him unsure what he was doing. It was answered when he started to slip the dress off from her shoulders and pull them down until it pooled at her feet. She reacted by covering herself and avoided his gaze, but that meant nothing to him.

“Don’t be shy. I want to see your beauty.” He moved her hands away and admired her breasts with his lingering gaze.

He bit his lips at the sight of her and touched her mounds with a gentle grasp.

Maria tried telling herself that she was a fighter and should be stronger than she already felt. Even the loss of her father wasn’t enough to distract her. It was like it had to happen. They had to have sex.

He gently pushed her back on the bed and kept their eyes together as he tugged his trousers off and kicked them aside. Her face burned knowing he was fully naked in her view but didn’t look at his already hardened cock.

Slowly he crawled over her once more and pulled her up more along the bed so they weren’t hanging over the edge. A small whimper left her when his hand once again travelled down between them and rubbed her wet folds. She closed her eyes and tried to relax under his touch before she felt another pressure of his finger being inserted into her tight entrance.

“Shhhh,” he cooed her softly when she winced a little under his probing.

She didn’t know what to do but he did, and so she allowed it to happen, knowing she wouldn’t be able to stop it now they had come this far. A second finger joined the first and she hissed as she felt herself being stretched by his thick fingers. It was strange, and hurt a little, but when he started to finger fuck her entrance she welcomed the new sensation building up in her belly.

His lips suckled at her nipples for a bit, teasing them with small tugs and biting her softly earning surprised moans from her.

“How does it feel?” He asked knowingly.

“I-it feels different.” She didn’t know how to answer him.

“Are you in pain?”

“Not really?” Again, she wasn’t sure how to answer.

His fingers were gone and he kissed her passionately as he shifted himself between her thighs. She felt his hardness and prepared herself mentality for what was to come. The kiss was a good distraction which allowed him to tease her opening before thrusting himself into her, taking her virtue and burring himself into her depths.

The burning pain lingered and she couldn’t stop herself from crying out softly while she dug her nails into his back. It was done. There was no going back. His growling vibrated against her ear which made her shiver under him. He remained still, allowing her to adjust to his size to planted tender kisses over her face and neck. The jester was comforting and she wanted to feel the same pleasure not long ago again.

After a moment he moved his hips a little against her to see her reaction. There was another low hiss but after he did the same motion again she let out a low moan as she felt herself clench around his throbbing cock.

He started off slow with gentle thrusts and burring himself deep letting out low groans into her ear. The pain dulled into numbness as the tingles of pleasure started to spark. She couldn’t deny it anymore, it was too much, and she let out a pleasured moan loudly into the room.

“Fuck…Maria, oh fuck.” His words were snarled almost deadly as he started to build up his thrusting, grunting at each thrust he gave from his hips.

“Hvitserk…” She moaned his name and wrapped herself around his rocking body.

His cock brushed against her tender walls and bottomed out making her groan at the contact. Their sweaty bodies entwined together as his thrusts grew heavier, so much so the bed creaked under them which oddly added the sensation.

The grip he had over her hips grew tighter and slammed himself into her repeatedly showing no mercy, and she didn’t want it. She craved every moment of their wild coupling. His balls slapped her rear over and over again and she dug her finger nails into his rear earning a low hiss from him. No more talk was needed, but it was about to come to an end for them.

Hvitserk roared out as he came and gave jerky thrusts in her as he filled her while she milked him. Soon she followed with a startled gasp and tightened her grip around him, enjoying it while it lasted.

It was later that both laid side by side against the furs catching their breaths while their bodies glittered in the candle lights. Maria honestly didn’t know how to feel, but knew everything changed. The moment she lost that fight against him she knew it would, it just took her so long to realise that. She stared at the ceiling lost in deep thought over what was going to happen after what had happened. There weren’t many choices for her, and felt safest with Hvitserk.

The whole time he had been with her he had made sure she was fed and left alone by others. Perhaps he cared, and deep down he had somehow found a small spot to settle for good within her.

She had made her mind up.

‘Lord, forgive me, Father, forgive me, I have sinned. But I loved every moment of it.’

“What are you thinking about?” His question brought her back from her thoughts.

“I don’t want to think anymore.” She rolled herself until she laid her head against his chest and welcomed the warmth from him.

He brought his arms around her and pulled her closer against him. It was everything he wanted, to have a beautiful strong shield-maiden in his arms and he never wanted to let her go.

She was his and he was hers.


End file.
